


At the End of the Day

by walking_travesty



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fighting, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Physical Abuse, Verbal Abuse, it's not too bad though, post march 25th, zayn departure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-05-13 08:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5701528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_travesty/pseuds/walking_travesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis has always had a problem with dealing with his emotions. He let’s them sit inside of him; let’s them build and build until they finally overflow and he can’t take it anymore – or that one when Louis has a few too many drinks and sends a bitter text to Zayn nine months after he’s left One Direction</p>
            </blockquote>





	At the End of the Day

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly not what I wanted to write but it came out this way and I'm pretty pleased with it.  
> Enjoy!

_Shit._ Louis turns over with a groan, his body feeling unusually worn out. He scrunches his nose, trying to get himself to go back to sleep. He doesn’t remember what woke him up, but then he hears it.

He hears a knock on the door.

He cracks an eye open, drowsily looking around. Somehow, he’d fallen asleep downstairs, body stretched out on the couch. He hears another urgent knock, followed by the ring of his doorbell.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Louis groans to himself. He sits up slowly, his joints cracking into use. He stretches his arms over his head, placing his feet on the ground. His foot touches something cold and hard on the floor, and for a minute he panics, looking down. He calms down when he realizes it’s an empty bottle of vodka.

“That explains a lot.” He mumbles to himself. His doorbell rings again, and he almost shouts. He would be shouting if it wasn’t for the headache forming steadily in the back of his head. He gets up from the couch, dragging himself into the foyer.

“I’m fucking coming,” He says, “Jesus.”

He smooths his hair down in some places, straightening out his wrinkled, slept in shirt before opening the door.

“Can I help -” The words die out when he sees who’s behind the door.

Zayn looks agitated and merciless and it sends a chill down Louis’ spine. He crosses his arms across his chest, squinting from the sun as he glares at Zayn, “What the hell are you doing here?”

Zayn snorts, pushing past Louis to walk inside. Louis is immediately annoyed by it, shutting the door behind him. He leans against the door, raising an eyebrow at Zayn, “I asked you a question.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Zayn spits, crossing his arms across his own chest. Louis is taken back by the question, a sneer forming on his face.

“I should be asking you that.” Louis replies easily, ignoring the tight knot forming in his throat, “What the fuck are you doing at my house, Zayn?” Zayn laughs humorlessly, hazel eyes a mix of hurt and anger.

“Don’t act fucking dumb, you know exactly why I’m here,” Zayn huffs, looking Louis up and down. Louis rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulders.

“I honestly don’t know what the fuck you’re on about, mate.” Louis snorts, “We haven’t talked since you left – or did you forget that?” Louis adds, all the feelings that have tormented him at night for the past nine months all coming up at once, “Did you forget that you left like a coward with no fucking explaina -”

The next thing Louis knows, he’s pinned to the door with Zayn’s hand around his neck. Louis is caught off guard, the air leaving his lungs all at once. Zayn presses himself against him, pinning him completely against the door.

“Get the fuck off me,” Louis spits, attempting to push Zayn away. The hold on his throat is tightened and a fleeting sense of fear and something else passes through his mind. “I said get off!”

“Not until you tell me why you sent me those texts,” Zayn replies, face inches away from Louis’, Louis gives him an incredulous look, wriggling to get free.

“What are you talking about?” Louis breathes, getting his arm free. He presses it in between then, trying to get Zayn to back away. Zayn grabs the front of his shirt pulling Louis with him as he backs away. He shoves Louis against the door again, pressing his forearm against Louis’ chest.

“Last night, you texted me. You texted me awful fucking things, Louis,” Zayn breathes harshly, trying to meet Louis’ eyes. For a minute, Louis’ heart drops into his stomach, a blush forming on his cheeks.

He remembers last night and – oh. Oh.

He texted Zayn, he texted Zayn after having half a bottle of wine, two shots of whiskey, and a full bottle of vodka.

Shit.

“L-Look I –”

“I should be the one calling you a coward. Is that how you really felt about me? The whole time? Even when we started - ” Zayn stops himself, mouth forming a deep frown. “If that’s how you felt about me, you should’ve said it to my face.” Zayn spits, pressing Louis harder into the door. Anger sparks in the pit of Louis’ stomach, spurring him on as he laughs at Zayn.

“Say it to your face? You were never around for me to say anything! Whenever I tried to talked to you, _r-really_ talk to you, you were either too busy with someone else o-or fucking around with people who don’t give a single shit about you.” Louis grits, eyes bright with rage.

“What the hell are you on about?” Zayn asks, “I was there, Louis, I was always there. Every time you needed me. _Every_ time.”

“I hate you,” Louis breathes, his emotions getting the best of him. He can feel angry tears welling up in his eyes, his heart erratic with distress. He gives Zayn a manic look, blinking away tears. Zayn sneers when Louis says it, lips curling into a grimace.

“You’re a fucking piece of shit,” Zayn growls back, hand curling around Louis’ neck. Louis’ head is throbbing and he can feel everything at once; all of his emotions overlapping each other.

“Go to Hell, arsehole,” Louis huffs, blowing a piece of hair out of his eyes. Zayn lunges forward, pressing his lips against Louis’. Louis makes a sound in surprise, pushing forward. The kiss is heated, angry, and desperate, teeth clashing in their frenzy.

“You’re so fucking infuriating,” Zayn breathes against Louis’ lips, pressing further into Louis’ mouth. Louis bites on Zayn’s lower lip, making Zayn huff in return. Zayn lets got of Louis’ neck, instead choosing to grip the back of Louis’ head, pulling his hair almost to the point of pain.

Louis groans with the feeling, going willingly when Zayn wraps a hand around his thigh and pulls his around his waist. Zayn bites his lip, lips dragging down Louis’ chin to the side of his neck. Louis groans, mouth open as his head thuds against the door.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes, nails digging into the back of Zayn’s neck. Zayn whines, sucking a purpling bruise just under the cut of Louis’ chin. Zayn presses his lips against his ear, laughing softly.

“So everyone knows,” He breathes, stepping back. He grabs Louis by the waist, pulling him over his shoulder. Louis groans weakly, cheeks turning red.

“Don’t appreciate being manhandled, dickhead.” Louis tries to reason as Zayn makes his way upstairs. Zayn slaps him on the bum, arm wrapping tighter around his thighs.

“Yeah you do,” He replies, smiling to himself when Louis doesn’t say anything back. Zayn walks down the hall with purpose, the rage inside of him dulling into an intense ache. He practically kicks in the door to Louis’ bedroom, dropping Louis down on the bed. Louis scrambles on top of the sheets, giving Zayn an irritated glare.

“Who the fuck gave you the right to barge into my house and kick open my fucking -” Louis is kissed silent by Zayn as he crawls onto the bed, fingers creeping under the hem of Louis’ shirt.

“God, you never shut up,” Zayn comments against his lips, tongue licking against the seam of his lips, “I think I can fix that.” Louis gulps at the suggestion, can feel his dick twitch in his pants with interest. Zayn leans back on his knees, fingers pulling at the hem of Louis’ shirt until it was over his head and thrown off to the side. Louis felt vulnerable and small under Zayn’s gaze. He always felt like he was exposing the deepest parts of himself whenever they were like this and in a way, he supposes he was. Louis could never tell what he was thinking and it drove him absolutely crazy. This time is no different.

Zayn’s fingertips skate across Louis’ stomach, pinching at the slight pudge of fat there. Louis blushes softly at that, breathing in sharply. Zayn smiles softly at him, eyes warm and tender around the edges; fingers walking up the middle of his chest, gliding over the ‘It is what it is’ tattoo.

“God, I missed your body,” Zayn mutters lowly, mostly to himself, Louis thinks. Louis sighs heavily at that, any anger he felt early being replaced by a desperate ache. The same desperate ache that was always there at the back of his mind ever since he left. Louis tried to make it better, he tried everything to distract himself, but nothing ever worked for long. He missed this. He missed this so much it hurt. He missed Zayn hovering over him, his fingers touching and grazing and admiring every inch of his skin. He missed the look in Zayn’s eye whenever Louis was spread out like this underneath him.

He missed Zayn, he missed him more than he could even admit.

Louis lays his head down on the bed, closing his eyes. He can feel a tear forming and tracking down the side of his face. He felt weightless, like the world had drifted away from him. He didn’t dare open his eyes, he was afraid that he might come crashing down to earth again if saw Zayn. The time, the healing, the constant late night talks with Liam to fill the void suddenly meant nothing. Louis was back at square one. He felt a hand cover the side of his face, but he slapped it away, turning so his back was towards Zayn.

Louis couldn’t stop the sob that wracked through him, making him hunch over. He couldn't stop crying, he could feel the hot tears tracking down his face. He felt helpless. He felt weak, _so_ fucking weak. There was a tiredness that started to overtake him, spreading through his bones and into his heart. He could faintly hear himself sobbing openly, but everything was hard to hear over the ringing in his ears. At some point he doesn’t even feel Zayn’s presence anymore and it made a deathly chill overcome him. He can feel himself shaking, can feel the weightlessness over take him.

The last thing he remembers is Zayn’s hand on his back and his hushed voice saying, “I’m sorry.”

Louis wakes up slowly, eyes blinking into use. He groans, body aching numbly. He could barely find the energy as he turned himself around, burying his head into the pillow. He distantly feels the drag of his comforter on his back, brow furrowing. He opens his eyes again, this time waiting until everything came into focus around him. It was a lot darker in the room, the curtains pulled over the windows. He looks over at the clock on his bedside table, groaning when he saw how late it was.

He must’ve slept in. It must’ve been a dream.

He tries to convince himself of this as he turns to lay on his back, staring at the ceiling before he pulled himself up into a seated position. He rubs a hand over his eyes, looking around the room. He looks back over at the bedside table and furrows his brow.

There was a cup of tea there, along with a piece of paper that was neatly folded and put under the cup. Louis reaches over to grab it, becoming even more confused when he feels that it’s still warm. He takes a tentative sip at the drink, relaxing at the familiar taste of his favorite tea. He holds the cup in one hand, unfolding the paper in the other.

_Come down stairs when you wake up._

It wasn’t signed, but Louis’ heart dropped to his stomach when he noticed the all too familiar curve and neatness of the handwriting. He takes another sip of his drink before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. He shivers once his feet hit the carpeted floor, looking down to realize that he’s shirtless. He pads over to his closet, putting on the first sweatshirt he gets his hands on. He slips it over his head, taking his tea with him as he ventures out into the hallway. It was almost completely dark when he steps out into the hallway, a few stripes of orange sunlight peaking through the windows to the right. He slowly went down the stairs, heart pounding in his chest. He always hated his house when it was dark. It was too big for him, he felt on edge whenever he had to come out of his room at night.

Louis swallows down the knot in his throat at the memory of Zayn and him discussing moving in together on the tour bus one night.

Three days before he left.

Once he gets to the bottom of the stairs, he doesn’t know which way to go, but when he hears movement in the kitchen, he takes a right. The hallway is dark, the only light coming from the kitchen. He hears humming, the same humming that put him to sleep after long hours on the road. The same melodic humming that made Louis realize how in love he was with Zayn. He peeks around the corner and notices a slender figure. His head was hunched down, dark skin pull tight around the veins in his neck. Louis walked further into the room, not stopping until he reached the breakfast bar Zayn was sat at. He puts his mug on the table, looking at his hands and then at Zayn.

“Thank you for the tea,” Louis says quietly, not recognizing his own voice. Zayn finally lifts his head up, looking at Louis. There is a hint of a smile on his lips, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“It was no problem, babe,” Zayn replies lowly, clearing his throat. The petname was like a jab to Louis’ abdomen, his stomach tightening at the word. He blinks a few times, fingers playing with the handle of his cup.

“I’m surprised you remember how I liked it,” Louis laughs humorlessly, giving Zayn a painful look. Zayn tenses up at the words, eyes unreadable.

“I’ve been making tea for your lazy arse for the last four years, I’d never forget.” Zayn says, a hint of a tease in his tone. Louis can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips, a light feeling spreading through him. Louis walks around Zayn until he can sit in the stool next to him, elbows leaning on the table. A tense silence passes between them, putting them both on edge.

“You left,” Louis says softly, looking down at the plain white counter top. Zayn sighs beside him, fingers inching closer to Louis’. Louis doesn’t pull his hand away when Zayn finally puts his on top, fingers intertwining.

“I know,” Zayn replies, fingers tightening around his. Louis finally gets the courage to look over to Zayn, only to see that he’s already staring at him.

“Why?” Louis asks, swallowing past the lump of emotion forming in his throat. It was getting harder to breathe with every second that passed by.

“I couldn’t do it anymore, Louis, I couldn't keep living like that,” Zayn sighs, rubbing his free hand through his freshly bleached hair. Louis fights back tears, praying that Zayn doesn’t feel when his body starts to tremor, “You know how much I’ve been struggling, I think you knew it was only a matter of time.”

And the sad part is, Zayn was right. All the boys knew for a while that Zayn wasn’t enjoying it anymore, they could tell how tired he was, but Louis liked to think he knew before the rest of them did. He always had this feeling that something was off, and as their last tour closed out and the new album was in the process of being written, he knew that something would eventually go wrong.

“I did,” Louis sighs, wiping at his eyes miserably, “But it didn’t stop me from hurting just the same.” Louis whispers, avoiding Zayn’s eyes, “It, it destroyed me, Zayn. I-I don’t think you or the boys know how much it affected me.”

Zayn gets out of his seat, standing behind Louis. He wraps his arms around Louis’ shoulders, chin resting on Louis’ head.

“Tell me,” Zayn mumbles, kissing Louis’ head, “Tell me how you felt.” Louis laughs bitterly, shaking his head.

“Y’know, this is what I pay my therapist for.” Louis says dryly. Zayn’s arms tighten around him, taking a jagged intake of breath.

“You see a therapist now?” Zayn asks, keeping the emotion out of his voice. Louis goes stiff with the question, nodding his head.

“Grief induced Depression.”

“Fuck, Lou,” Zayn shudders, backing away from Louis. He turns Louis’ chair around, taking his face in both hands. For the first time since he came to his house, pissed off and hurt, he finally gets a good look at Louis. He’s lost weight, the hollows of his cheekbones a little more prominent. His eyes didn’t hold the mischievous light in them anymore. His skin was a shade paler, the delicate bones in Louis’ wrist even more fragile under his touch. Louis felt like a piece of fine china in his hands. He was so scared of breaking him, as if one touch could send him crumbling to the floor, which was a polar opposite of earlier.

“D-Did I do this to you?” Zayn asks, mouth set in a firm line. The way Louis avoids his eyes is all the answer he needs. Zayn can’t stop the tears forming in his eyes, his stomach lurching at the thought of hurting Louis this bad.

“I-It wasn’t just you, it was just too much, everything was too much,” Louis tries to explain, clearing his throat, “A-After you left, it all just c-came down at once, y’know? The boys knew how close you and I were and their constant checking up on me, my family started to worry, the fans, the press, we still had months of tour to go, we had an album to write, it just - ” He stops his rambling, shrugging his thin shoulders in defeat, “it just made everything I was feeling even harder to deal with.” He sighs, wiping at his nose.

Zayn didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to make this better. He hurt the most important person in his life.

“W-Why didn’t you call me? Why did you never say anything to me, Lou?” Zayn asks, pressing his hand against Louis cheek. Louis snorts humorlessly, blue eyes guarded.

“How could I? I-I was angry, I was hurt, and I didn’t think you’d want to talk to me.” Louis says, giving Zayn an incredulous look. Zayn gives him a crazed look back.

“How could you think that? Louis, you know how important you are to me,” Zayn says, wiping at his own eyes, leaning forward. He presses his forehead against Louis’, hands coming up to cup his face. Louis can’t look him in the eye, eyelashes fanning against the apples of his cheeks as he blinks away tears.

“I thought...I thought I was the one who drove you away,” Louis says softly, breathing out a weak laugh, “I thought it was me that made you want to leave.” Zayn pulls back from him, rolling his eyes.

“You’re such an idiot,” Zayn scoffs, wrapping Louis into a tight hug. Louis can feel the air being squeezed out of him but at the moment he doesn’t care. All that matters is Zayn’s solid presence around him.

He wraps his arms around Zayn’s waist, sighing heavily.

“It wasn’t you, Louis. Christ, how could you ever think it was because of you?” Zayn asks, pulling back. He leans down, lips ghosting against Louis’ in an unspoken question. Louis nods his head lightly, pressing his lips against Zayn’s. The kiss is entirely different from earlier in the day, it was slower this time and it came from a place of love. Zayn presses forward, putting his hands on either side of Louis, leaning against the breakfast bar as he drags his lips against Louis, tasting what he thought he would never have again.

“I never thought you’d come back to me; back to any of us,” Louis breathes, throat closing at the swell of emotion forming in his chest. Zayn kisses the tip of his nose, smiling to himself.

“Of course I wanted to come back,” Zayn whispers, nosing against Louis’ head, “I just figured you didn’t want me back.” Louis snorts at that, hands gripping Zayn’s hips.

“We want you back Zayn, we miss having you in our lives,” Louis sighs, rubbing at his eyes, “It’s just going to take time.” Zayn hums at his words, kissing both his cheeks.

“I miss having you boys around,” Zayn comments softly, chin resting on Louis’ head, “I especially miss you annoying me every chance you get.” Zayn adds, pinching at Louis’ side. Louis jumps at the contact, pushing Zayn away. He smiles mischievously at him, and for a moment, Zayn sees the old Louis. The one with the sparkling blue eyes and grin to match. There was something magical about Louis and it always pulled Zayn in. They both stare at each other, smiling brightly and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Then Louis’ smile faltered, a painful look forming in his eyes.

“The texts,” Louis says softly, looking away from Zayn, “I-I didn’t mean what I said I,” He stops again, rubbing at his eyes, “I was drunk and miserable and -”

“ - It’s okay,” Zayn says, cutting him off, “I know you didn’t mean it.” Louis looks up at him, hopeful.

“Really?” Louis asks, a hint of skepticism in his tone. Zayn shrugs, giving Louis a tired smile.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t for a while, that’s why I came here in the first place,” Zayn says, sighing, “But deep down, I know you wouldn’t say any of that.” Louis’ shoulders sag, the painful look in his eye replaced with remorse.

“I let my emotions get the best of me,” Louis comments, wiping at his nose, “I just - I missed you so fucking much, Zayn,” Louis says, wiping a tear from his cheek, “It was eating me _alive_ , Zee.” Zayn walks forward and wraps Louis into another hug, rocking him back and forth as he rubs his back. Zayn clears his throat, trying to keep the tears back as he holds Louis, _his_ Louis.

“I understand, I know,” Zayn sighs, his hold on Louis tightening, “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.” Louis shudders at his words, his throat constricting almost painfully.

“I-I understand now, I know why you left,” Louis stutters, leaning away from Zayn. He offers Zayn a watery smile, wiping at his eyes, “We all get why you left, it’s okay.” Zayn holds Louis’ face in his hands, leaning down so that his forehead is pressed against Louis’.

“I love you,” Zayn breathes, shaking his head, “I don’t think I’ve ever said that out loud, but I do.” Zayn adds, kissing Louis softly. Louis nods his head, presses a few chaste kisses to Zayn’s lips, nodding again.

“I know, I always knew, Zayn,” Louis laughs softly, “I could feel it.” Zayn grabs onto Louis’ hands, thumb rubbing across the soft, smooth skin of Louis’ thumb.

“I love you,” Zayn says again, this time more softly as he presses his lips to Louis’, “I think I always have.” Zayn shrugs. Louis ducks his head, blushing as he wraps his arms around Zayn’s torso.

“I love you too,” Louis replies softly, looking up at Zayn through hooded eyes.

“You sending me those texts was probably the best thing to happen,” Zayn comments, pulling away from Louis. He grabs his wrist, pulling him out of his chair. Louis goes willingly, smiling tiredly.

“I should get drunk more often,” Louis comments sarcastically, fingers intertwining with Zayn’s. Zayn rolls his eyes as he pulls Louis from the kitchen and up the stairs.

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be shameless hate sex but it turned out so soft and pure that I had to keep it.  
> Thank you for reading!! Kudos are very much appreciated!!  
> Tell me what you think down in the comments! 
> 
> Tumblr: [one direction blog](http://www.angelic-lilo.tumblr.com)


End file.
